


aching

by hangthe_stars



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kozume Kenma Needs a Hug, M/M, Minor Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29443338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hangthe_stars/pseuds/hangthe_stars
Summary: Kenma aches with a love he can't articulate, so he holds it close to his chest and waits for it to break him.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 17
Kudos: 106





	aching

**Author's Note:**

> hello! thank you for clicking on this little mess of a story.
> 
> a warning in the general sense: i wrote this with messy characterisations and in a rush so i apologise for unfinished thoughts and the jarred style with which i have written it. hopefully you can find something you like amidst all of my shameless projection
> 
> cw (SPOILERS HERE): minor blood and injuries with mentions of violence (all very non-graphic), dub-con kiss because one of them is intoxicated, lots of anxiety because kenma
> 
> edited in a rush, sorry
> 
> enjoy!

Kuroo gets his first girlfriend at fourteen. She's arguably the most popular girl in his class: consistently clever, objectively pretty and sickeningly sweet. They don't talk much - it's the sort of dating kids do - but one lunch, Kuroo takes her small, soft hand in his and doesn't let go until it's time for class again. 

Kenma doesn't realise he's staring until a sickness stirs in his stomach and he wonders why. Why does he put his lunch down, suddenly without an appetite, as he looks at the joined hands across from him? They are sat in the school’s courtyard at one of the lunch tables, just the three of them, but the couple are sat a little to the left so Kenma’s floating just outside their bubble. Despite being cut out of their conversation, Kenma's eyes are stuck on that pivotal place where their hands are joined between them on the table. A quiet voice in his head tells him that Kuroo's trying to show off which doesn't reassure Kenma in the slightest. Then Kuroo catches him staring and grins. 

Something twists inside Kenma. Twists until it snaps. It happens suddenly: barraged by emotions that are equally familiar and not at all known to him. He understands dizzily exactly what it means as he feels the twist and snap and the heart-dropping, chest-clenching ache. Without ever putting a word to the feeling, Kenma has managed to harbour affection towards Kuroo all this time, and faces it now because it's been forced in his face. He realises what this means without much effort. There's going to be a lot of this, he accepts, resigned. There's going to be a lot of this aching for something he can't have. 

At thirteen years old, Kenma decides that this is bound to be the worst year of his life. 

Kuroo gets into his first fight aged seventeen. Kenma isn't there to witness the fight but he sees the aftermath of it barrelling down the corridor towards him in the form of Kuroo, shouting, "Kenma! Hide me!" Kenma doesn't really get it until Kuroo is three feet away from him with a bloody lip and an angry red mark on his forehead. 

He doesn't have to think, just grabs Kuroo by the hand and - he's not sure who is doing the tugging but they end up in the boy's bathroom either way. Kenma looks back at the door, heart pounding, concerned that whoever Kuroo was fighting is going to charge into the bathroom and finish what they started. Kenma is not prepared to be in a fight. 

"Don't worry. I'm only hiding from the professors," Kuroo pants. He's seventeen years old and he's nothing like the other boys. He's taller, filling out with all the muscle he's putting on and Kenma is having trouble not noticing how attractive his best friend is. Kuroo lifts himself up by the sink and Kenma stands small but sure between his legs. 

Kenma takes the ice pack from his lunch box and wraps it in paper towel, instructing Kuroo to keep it on his forehead where the skin is raised, a sore bump forming. "You'll be suspended for longer if you keep hiding." 

He shrugs and his reply is honest: "I wanted to see you before my inevitable imprisonment." 

Kenma's long since learned that Kuroo says a lot of things that stoke the aching in his chest without realising the consequence of his words. It's one of his favourite things about Kuroo: the honest way he expresses himself without fear of how it sounds. Kenma wishes he could be so brave. On the other hand, Kenma hates it because he falls in love with Kuroo all over again when he flirts dumbly, blindly. Ignoring the comment, Kenma folds another square of paper towel and wets the corner. 

"What happened?" 

Kuroo winces when Kenma takes his chin between his thumb and finger and begins dabbing the blood from his lip and chin. He's watching Kenma work carefully but looks away when Kenma flickers his amber eyes up at him. Awkwardly, he shrugs and says: "Nothing." 

"You've never done this before," Kenma makes the observation casually, as if he's not really pressing but Kuroo knows what it really means: _liar, tell me what's going on_. 

Kuroo isn't one to evade but he does this time, gesturing to the bump under the ice pack. "Asshole knocked me into the teacher's desk." 

_That's how it's going to be, huh?_ Kenma doesn't encourage him with a reply. His silence alone will speak his disappointment that Kuroo's not being honest with him. But he respects Kuroo enough to not argue about it. 

He focuses on the task at hand; tries to, anyway, but Kuroo's skin is warm under his fingertips. Kenma traces his fingers over Kuroo's tense jaw which is getting sharper by the day. Now that he's stood so close to Kuroo, with his hands on his face, he can see all the things he's been noticing recently up close. (His body has changed from when they were kids, he towers over the other boys, his bone structure is strong and prominent, his hair is perpetually messy, his thighs are strong on either side of Kenma's hips). Noticing these things feels like discovering a new part of the love that he's always felt for his best friend. Loving Kuroo may hurt, but it's also the most exciting part of Kenma's life. He anticipates finding out these new things to love about him. 

It also scares him. Everything about his predicament scares him but he can't help selfishly relishing in the touches Kuroo indulges him in. 

He's cleaned up the blood from Kuroo's lip. The cut itself isn't too bad and has already stopped dripping blood. The bloody towel gets thrown in the bin with an accuracy Kuroo whoops over. Kenma turns back rolling his eyes and then Kuroo's directing his eyes back to Kenma's feet, all guilty-looking. Kenma doesn't comment on it. He covers the hand Kuroo is holding the ice pack in and guides it back over the injured spot. 

"Keep it there," Kenma orders softly. Then puts his fingers back on Kuroo's face and gently tips his face this way and that way. His cheeks are hot to the touch. "Does anywhere else hurt?" 

Kuroo shakes his head. Kenma is relieved when Kuroo leans into his touch. It knocks the breath out of Kenma's lungs as if they don't do things like this all the time. The gesture reassures him that Kuroo's okay - under the physical injuries, he's okay. Kenma trusts that they'll talk about what happened when Kuroo is ready. 

There's a devilish grin splitting Kuroo's face suddenly. Yeah, he definitely seems over whatever was bothering him. "If I buy you a nurse outfit can we do this more often?" 

Kenma flicks his forehead in retaliation but smiles a little, glad Kuroo's recovered. "Shut up. I won't help you if you get in another fight. Seriously, Kuro, no more fighting. What will you do if you get suspended from the team?" 

Kuroo sighs, sliding off the side. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to the top of Kenma's head. He wishes Kuroo didn't do such things so easily. He knows Kuroo is genuine when he touches Kenma, when he kisses his forehead sweetly but it means something different to Kenma - and that makes his chest ache. 

When he stands straight, he's grinning and Kenma doesn't know what to make of the sharp edge, the flash in his eyes. "No promises, little angel." 

Inevitably, Kuroo is suspended for a week. He takes the time to update Kenma throughout the day with messages that consist of excruciating retellings of how he made his lunch and emoji-stuffed paragraphs of why it is he loves studying science. (There's a lot of heart eyes and exploding minds and exclamation marks). Kenma doesn't read half the nonsense but it makes him smile every time his phone pings. 

Apart from asking Kuroo how his injuries are, they haven't spoken about the fight. Kuroo hasn't shed any insight into why he got in a fight with two of his classmates. He hadn't even told Kenma that he fought with two of them. Kenma only knows because people have been gossiping about it. He wonders whether Kuroo is waiting to see him in person to talk about it. He's hoping that's the case. 

It's been three days since the fight. Three days since all three of the boys involved were suspended. Kenma hears people talk about the fight as he walks the corridor to lunch. He catches the names of the boys Kuroo fought, but he doesn't care enough to remember them. Someone else exclaims that Kuroo really did a number on their faces and Kenma feels a little bad for the kids but mostly he tries not to smirk. He probably shouldn't worry about Kuroo as much. For the first time he curiously tries to pay attention to what his peers are saying. He slows his walk so that he can catch bits of conversation, blood thrumming when he hears Kuroo's name in other people's mouths. 

It’s not usual for him to listen to conversations around him and it doesn't take long for him to realise that he's not the only one acting differently. People are glancing at him. Noticing him. 

A pretty blonde girl nudges her friend and mutters something, then they're both glaring at him. Kenma's gut reaction is to bow his head, half-dyed hair cutting off his peripheral to cut the amount of people he can see staring at him. Someone says: "That guy?" And Kenma knows it's him they're referring to. He's afraid, all of a sudden. It's a familiar, unwelcome feeling that rears in front of him and encases him - out of nowhere, irrationally, pathetically. He keeps his eyes to the floor and picks up the pace. 

"Hey." 

The blonde girl and her friend are in front of him. He acknowledges their matching glares with a glance and then tries to sidestep them, throat closing up. Everyone's staring at him. Why do they all look so mad? What did he do wrong? What can they see when they look at him? The girl repeats herself, sharper and louder. Kenma knows he hides it well but he's shaking out of his skin. 

"Please let me past," Kenma says without inflection. He doesn't want to sound like he's begging. The muscles in his body have gone tense, shoulders rising as he dips his head, trying to curl in on himself protectively. 

"We're talking to you," the other girl sneers, looking down her nose at him. "Don't be so rude." 

"Are you friends with Kuroo?" The blonde asks. 

Kenma nods. He wishes Kuroo was here. No one bothered talking to him when Kuroo was around. 

"So, it's true then?" 

"What?" Kenma tries not to let it come out as a sigh. 

"You're the reason he got in that fight." 

"What?" Kenma repeats dumbly. He hates prolonging conversation with useless questions. He blinks at her, confused, then slides his eyes away as he tries to work out how it could be that he was somehow involved in the fight. "No, I wasn't actually there -" 

"They were making jokes about you." She speaks bitterly but Kenma doesn't think it's because she feels sorry for him. "Kuroo defended you and now he's hurt. If you weren't following him around all the time, he'd probably have a lot more friends, you know? If you let him go, he probably wouldn't feel like he has to defend you. Wouldn't that be the fair thing to do? You are capable of defending yourself, aren't you? Or do you like having Kuroo fight for you - does it make you feel important, does it make you feel loved, the way you love him?" 

Kenma sucks in a sharp, cold breath. Was he really that obvious? Is that what all those pairs of eyes could see when they looked at his face? Could they see beneath the quiet stillness and into his most private thoughts? Could they see the anger that fizzled through his veins? People had a tendency of talking about Kuroo like they knew him after one conversation. But Kenma had been there when he'd cried over his first heartbreak. He'd been there the first time Kuroo had got drunk and thrown up in his mother's flower patch. He'd been there for the joy and the sadness, the laughs and the cries. Kenma was confident that no one knew Kuroo better than he did. This girl knew nothing. 

"Kuroo's my best friend," he said simply but with enough emphasis that it carried the weight intended. "I'm sorry if you aren't lucky enough to have a friend like him but that is, frankly, not my problem. So, please, move." 

It was the most he'd spoken to any of his peers - one older than him at that - and he'd looked her in the eye the whole time. Kuroo would be proud, Kenma thinks to himself, amused. 

His heart pounds hard like it's trying to break out the confines of his chest. He walks past the girls with ringing ears as they stare at the place he stood, dumbfounded. Still, too many eyes are on him. Despite the electric triumph bursting in his brain, the anxiety is getting the better of him and his eyes dampen when a boy crows: "Thought we were gonna see a cat fight then! Kuroo's sure got a feisty girl." 

He soldiers on. It's fine, he assures himself, you do this all the time. This: being anxious, breaking at the seams, vibrating away from the loud thoughts pulsing behind his temples. He does a lot more than that, though: he's mastered containing it in his chest. He's qualified in schooling his expressions into blankness. He's learned how to deal with this alone. 

Mechanically, he walks alone out the building and finds himself an empty bench outside. It's cool out. The cold pinches awareness back into him as he fishes his lunch out. When he checks his phone there's messages from Kuroo waiting for him. 

_i_ _know why_ _i_ _hate being suspended_

_and grounded_

_it's because_ _i_ _miss seeing ur cute angel face_

Attached is a photo of an insulting scribble that Kenma assumes is supposed to be a drawing of him. 

_i_ _drew u since u refuse to send me selfies_

Kenma's smiling when he replies with a string of vomiting emojis. 

Kuroo never tells Kenma why he got into a fight that day and Kenma never asks. 

Kenma is nineteen when he's lonely and hopelessly in love with his best friend. 

He doesn't know what to do. Doesn't know what to do with the mess that's unfurling in his chest, in his mind, brewing beneath his skin, bubbling over his heart and flooding his body with a debilitating ache. It's been years. Years spent harbouring this warm love. Years of love simmering and storming in his heart. He's never learned how to face it or how to dispel it. Which he's starting to believe is the only solution. 

For years now he's believed himself destined to live a life of solitude. His generally distant, impassive disposition had set him up for that life anyway. He hadn't anticipated the feelings lasting this long, growing to this strength, to the point now that every time he looks at Kuroo his chest clenches painfully. Honestly, he'd imagined Kuroo giving up on their friendship years ago. Kenma keeps anticipating it because they're both more independent now they're at college and Kuroo's got other friends, people who are more like him. Kenma also knows that thinking such things is ridiculous because Kuroo's not that sort of person at all. Kenma's secretly hoping that Kuroo will leave him behind so that Kenma doesn't have to be the one to do it. 

It's torture. Kenma isn't sure how much longer he can carry on. 

They're lay on Kenma's bed in his dorm room, not talking. They don't need to. They've long since perfected the art of quietude in each other's presence. It's one of the many reasons Kenma loves Kuroo - he doesn't expect Kenma to be anyone but himself. He wants to be around Kenma without changing any aspect of who Kenma is. Nothing's forced, there's no painful expectations and Kenma treasures their friendship for that. 

Kenma's lay on his stomach, thumbs working over the buttons on the handheld console he's gripping. Kuroo's beside him on his back, scrolling through his phone. Even though Kenma's tapping away relentlessly, his eyes have drifted, getting distracted in Kuroo's side profile; the warm tan of his skin, the strong jaw, the involuntary curl of his lip as he snorts at something on his phone. He turns and doesn't seem surprised to see Kenma staring - he doesn't react, only shoves his phone in Kenma's face, smirking: "Look at what Bokuto sent me." 

He doesn't even look properly. It's something stupid and obnoxious. Bokuto winding up Akaashi and the picture is loud enough that Kenma shakes his head, eyes rolling. 

"Boys," he stresses. 

Kuroo laughs loud, swatting Kenma's head down and ruffling his hair. His hand lingers, palm warm on Kenma's scalp as he stops ruffling and starts getting his fingers between the newly dyed locks. Immediately, he begins combing out the mess he just created. Kenma wants to bite his fingers off for being so touchy, stirring the ache inside of him but he enjoys the feeling of Kuroo's gentle touch too much. He tries to concentrate on the game instead of acknowledging the fact that Kuroo is currently absentmindedly petting him with one hand whilst maintaining an apparently hilarious conversation with Bokuto with the other. 

Kenma's eyes slide back over to Kuroo; unable to stop himself from chancing a glance. The ache is cruel and steady in his sternum. 

Lately, it's been harder to ignore. Harder to cope with. Kenma spends most of his time with Kuroo trying to forget the ache inside him, trying not to stare at the angle of Kuroo's collarbones or the shape of his arms or trying to stop the sick guilt that's eating him alive. 

What kind of person is he? Is he taking advantage of their friendship? A voice in his head kindly supplies the answers: he's a monster and he is. He doesn't know how much longer he can carry on this lie because being around Kuroo exhausts him. He's guilty for his affections and ashamed of himself for letting Kuroo touch and flirt playfully when Kuroo isn't aware that it's not fun for Kenma. Because Kenma is in love with him. 

Kenma's biding his time. Before Kuroo gets a serious girlfriend and his heart truly breaks. Before Kenma caves and starts avoiding him because really, what would fix this better than space? 

Kenma decides - not for the first time - that this is the worst year of his life. 

"What's got you frowning, angel face?" 

Kenma scrunches up his nose and tries not to flinch when Kuroo taps it with a finger. "I'm not frowning." 

"Then, what's this?" Kuroo teases and rubs a thumb between his brow where there is mostly definitely a frustrated little crease. 

"I can't beat this level." It's true, he can't, but that's because he's distracted by Kuroo's face. 

"Oh? Let me try." 

"Hah." 

"Seriously, I've improved!" 

"Okay," Kenma says doubtfully. 

Kuroo took the game and got stuck into it, jaw tight like it always is when he concentrates. Kenma doesn’t miss the competitive flash in his hazel eyes. He's cruelly good looking, Kenma thinks sourly. Girls are always staring at him around campus and Kuroo only fuelled it. He was naturally flirtatious with everyone, including Kenma. He'd had a couple of girlfriends before - nothing serious - but each time he'd drifted away from Kenma a little and Kenma had existed with an insurmountable ache weighing him down during those times. 

Kenma wants to kick some sense into himself. He's being selfish. Kuroo isn't his and he never will be so he needs to stop. It wasn't so simple, though. 

Now that he’s thinking about it, no one had ever flirted with Kenma before. Apart from Kuroo but that didn't count. 

Kenma's never had a girlfriend, either. Not that he ever wanted one. Actually, as far as he's aware, no one's ever had a crush on him. No one has ever held his hand before. Or held him. Or wanted him in a way that was _more_ and _longing_ and _desire_. 

The realisations hurt. Kenma is nineteen years old and he's never been kissed on the lips. He's going to die without ever being kissed. 

He feels pathetic when pain surges in his chest, eyes pricking with tears. Blinking desperately, he tries to focus on Kuroo playing the game (poorly) but he can't stop the thoughts from unravelling now. He hates it. Hates the way his mind jumps from one thought to the next and the conclusion he's left with is: _I deserve to be alone_. 

That's that, then. He's going to commit to living a solitary life. But, if he is going to do that, then he wants to at least have that one experience. He wants the impossible. He wants this one thing before he goes through the motions: the avoiding, the ignoring, the disappearing, the pain of knowing he's disappointed the only person he's ever loved. It will be for their own good. It will stop the ache if he puts distance between them. It will be good for Kuroo, too, he just doesn't know it yet. But, first... 

"Hey, Kuro?" 

"Hm?" His tongue is sticking out now, in full concentration mode. 

Kenma shakes his head. He can’t do this. He can't take advantage like this and god – how ashamed he’d be if he did it! "It's nothing. Never mind." 

Kuroo frowns, pausing the game and rolling on his side to face Kenma properly. "What's wrong? No - don't dodge the question, Kenma. I know you were frowning about something before. You can't escape my all-seeing eyes. What's going on?" 

He doesn't really know how to reply. Though, that's not true. He knows what he wants, it's a matter of getting those words around the anxious closing up of his throat. There's a pressure building inside of him, threatening to split his skin and rush out in a tide of overwhelming grief. He collapses onto his back to avoid Kuroo's eyes, abating the conversation by staring up at the indifferent ceiling. 

"Do you -" What words are going to escape him? He's never felt so out of control of himself. But the anxieties he's lived with for years have him in a vice-like grip, he's tired of hurting alone and he's going to leave after this. He's going to remove himself from Kuroo's life. It's the only way to save himself. "Do you think anyone will ever want me?" 

There's no answer and Kenma doesn't dare look at Kuroo's expression, afraid of what he'll see. He squeezes his eyes closed. Hearing the words come out his mouth, he realises now how pathetic - how self-pitying - he sounds. 

Then Kuroo's touching his arm, pinching the skin at his inner elbow gently. "You must be some sort of crazy to be thinking that." 

It doesn't do much to comfort him but Kenma appreciates the comment. Of course, Kuroo would support him. They're best friends after all. Kenma can't speak, his throat tight with the threat of anxiety. 

"Hey." Kuroo prods him again but his fingers trail down his forearm, over his wrist until he's slipping his palm over Kenma's. Kenma almost sobs but he keeps the tears at bay. He'll be dead before he cries in front of someone. "What's going on?" 

"Nothing." 

"Hm, nothing? Then where's that pretty smile?" Kuroo lets go of his hand to trail his fingers down Kenma's sensitive sides, making Kenma flinch and release a punched out, wet laugh. Kuroo rolls, legs sliding on either side of Kenma's hips. He's got a big hand pinning Kenma's slim wrists down as he rakes his nails - too gently - over Kenma's ribs with the other. 

Kenma rolls his eyes, cheeks warm. He can't smile. Not with Kuroo hovering over him. Not when his strong legs are trapping him to the bed. _We're too old for this_ , Kenma thinks distantly, reminiscing on times when they were younger and Kuroo would try to goad him into play fighting. Kuroo went easy on him then, too. He's staring up into familiar eyes. They look darker than usual, like the colour in them has been swallowed up by shadows. And Kenma realises this is the closest they're ever going to be. He realises this is the most he's ever going to get. He can do this. He can be selfish one last time. 

"Kuro," he says, voice barely above a whisper. Kuroo's grinning down at him, still gripping his wrists over his head. Kenma's heart has never beat so fiercely. "Kuro." 

He finally releases Kenma's wrists but he doesn't move. If anything, he leans closer, as if he's trying to hear the silent question in Kenma's eyes. His eyes are darting all over Kenma's face, sort of dazed, supporting himself on one hand. He runs his knuckles down the side of Kenma's face lightly. The grin softens. 

"You're beautiful, Kenma." 

_Then why don't you want me?_

"Kuro." 

"Yeah?" 

"Can you - I've never -" Kenma closes his eyes for a split second, face screwing up into the most expressive frustrated pout that he's ever dared show. He blinks once, then stares up at Kuroo, determined. "Please, will you kiss me?" 

The breath Kuroo lets out is winded. His eyes dart from Kenma's eyes to his lips, considering. Kenma stares up at him with a still expression, inwardly trying to suppress the trembling of his heart. It feels like he's gone and shoved their friendship onto a precipice, and if they do this then they're going to teeter over the edge, fall and break apart. They're going to break together, though, because Kuroo's fingers are brushing his jaw, beneath his chin, tipping his head slightly. Kenma lets himself go wherever Kuroo nudges him. It had always been that way, really. Kenma: always turning to Kuroo like a flower to sunlight, and Kuroo: gravitating towards him despite all the attention he was getting from other people, he always chose Kenma over everyone else. 

Kenma shoves his hand into Kuroo's face. It's hard to talk. His throat's full of shattered glass. "Never mind. I changed my mind." 

He slides his eyes to the ceiling over Kuroo's shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kuroo's dazed expression shutter and twist into something Kenma can only describe as lecherous. Kenma shoves a pillow in his face before he can say whatever terrible thing he was thinking. 

Kenma's glad when Kuroo rolls away from him and picks up the game where he left off but his heart continues to thud painfully loud in his chest. A cool relief washes over him. Whether that's from the lack of Kuroo's body heat over his or the painstaking gladness that he didn't single-handedly ruin their friendship, he doesn't know and he doesn't care to find out. Nervously, he watches Kuroo and turns on his stomach to watch how rubbish he is at this game. Kuroo's not really giving anything away. That, or he just doesn't care about what happened. Kenma can only hope. 

"I am so close to beating this level, for real," Kuroo mutters. He nudges Kenma with his shoulder, (as if Kenma's going to take that threat seriously). Kenma's relieved that Kuroo's acting like nothing happened. He's happy to do just the same. He put their friendship on the line just now. Having Kuroo's face so close to his own, having that gentle, coaxing touch on his face made everything so clear to him. He couldn't lose him - not this treasured friendship, not Kuroo's reliable, irreplaceable presence. Kenma would rather have Kuroo in his life as a friend than not at all - no matter how much he aches for more. 

Kuroo cuts a glance across to him. "You really shouldn't worry about those things. You'll have your first kiss soon, I'm sure." 

Kuroo's not kidding, either, because five days later Kenma has his first kiss. 

"I'm so happy you came tonight!" Kuroo says. Well, he's almost shouting as he tugs Kenma into his side and hugs him with one arm before stumbling to Bokuto's side, joining in with the obnoxious singing that the group ahead of them are cursing the street with. 

Kenma walks six paces behind them and watches the easy way Kuroo folds into his group of friends, laughter carrying on the chill breeze. He's overwhelmed once more with relief that he made the decision to carry on being Kuroo's friend. If not, he would have missed out on this: Kuroo's face in shadow as they walk the city streets in the night, teeth flashing in the moonlight when he grins, eyes reflecting something soft and happy. Happy but _wasted_. He’s certainly more drunk than Kenma is used to seeing him. Kenma blames Bokuto - the two of them always get carried away when they're together. 

When Bokuto stumbles, falls and drags Kuroo to the floor with him (both of them in stitches), Akaashi finally speaks up from where he's walking beside Kenma. "My apologies. I'll take him home now before he causes any serious damage." 

He's always liked Akaashi - the simple, no-nonsense way he operated and he liked even more the quiet passion with which he loved Bokuto. It was easy to respect someone like Akaashi. 

They part ways on the street where Kuroo's apartment is. Akaashi has an arm around Bokuto to keep him steady and Bokuto - (ever the emotional drunk) - is blubbering about how much he's going to miss them as he's pulled away down the street. Kenma makes his way up to Kuroo's apartment with his friend trailing behind him, humming under his breath. The alcohol loosens Kuroo's joints and he leans unhelpfully on Kenma as they go up the stairs. They both stumble. Kenma fists his hand in Kuroo's shirt against his ribs. 

"We're both going to fall down the stairs if you don't help." His voice is strained from taking Kuroo's weight. 

Kuroo tuts and admonishes himself under his breath, making Kenma huff out an amused laugh. He's relieved when Kuroo readjusts his weight but walks a step behind him and presses a hand to his back for support. Just in case. Generally, he's adverse to parties. He only went along because Kuroo invited him and he's used up all his rejection points for this month already. It's being stuck in a room full of inebriated people that can't read his boundaries that makes him uncomfortable. But now, watching the silver moonlight come in through the windows of the apartment complex and light up Kuroo's flushed cheeks and dopey smile, it feels worth it. 

Since Kuroo's been at college they've been spending less time together. It was harder last year when Kenma was still at high school, living on the street they'd both grown up on with Kuroo nowhere in sight. This year he's had work to focus on and the snatched time they share is momentary but it makes those few hours a week all the more precious. So Kenma soaks up this moment. Even if it feels like he's just a spectator in Kuroo's life. 

The key falls from Kuroo's fumbling fingers twice before he manages to let them into his apartment. It's a nice place. Kenma is always pleasantly pleased with how tidy Kuroo keeps his home. He says that because it's small he can't get away with messes, they distract him from studying. Kenma thinks Kuroo is much more put together than people think. 

Kuroo doesn't make it very far inside. He takes three steps and slumps against the wall of the short entry, not bothering to reach for the light switch. Kenma follows him in and shuts the door behind them. In the darkness, he can make out the slope of Kuroo's shoulders. He's leaning into the wall like it might envelop him till he disappears. 

"Go and get in bed. Don't you have class in the morning?" Kenma asks softly. He finds himself shaking his head fondly. "I'll bring you a glass of water." 

He shuffles his shoes off but before he can get anywhere, there's a warm hand clasped around his wrist. Kenma doesn't need any light to see the unreadable expression Kuroo's wearing. He falters. This - he hates this. More and more he's felt this shock, the realisation that he can't read Kuroo anymore, not like he used to. He's staring, eyes unwavering from a spot just left of Kenma's brow. And since when was Kuroo unable to look him in the eye? 

Is this the distance caused by a small change in their relationship? Now that they don't see each other every day, is the bright colour of their friendship washed grey? 

"What is it?" Kenma's silently praying that he isn't about to have vomit all over his shoes. 

He doesn't get an answer straight away. Kenma can't tell what Kuroo's thinking so he trains his eyes on the space between Kuroo's fidgeting brow. Beneath that strange expression he's thinking hard about something. Kenma can tell that much; his own frown appearing in answer. Kuroo's stopped swaying. Almost as if he sobered up the second he got through the front door. Had he only been pretending to be drunk? Kenma's frown deepens. Why would he do that? 

"I haven't stopped thinking about it," Kuroo murmurs and his eyes flicker back and forth between the wall and Kenma's eyes. 

"About what?" _This isn't like him at a_ _l_ _l_ , Kenma worries. This isn't like _them_ at all. They're usually so much more open, so much more honest with each other. Kenma frets that he's brought this on himself; karma for all the years he's been dishonest with Kuroo coming back to put a fracture in their friendship. 

It takes a moment but then Kuroo's frowning again and the glassiness of his eyes clears up. He seems to sharpen around the edges as he surges forward off the wall, catches Kenma around the waist and kisses him. 

Kenma isn't sure his brain is keeping up. He's not sure he's even interpreting this whole situation properly - whether it's real or whether he's dreaming. But it is real. He's grounded in reality by two warm hands spanning his waist and the firm pressure of Kuroo's body pressing him back into the wall. His best friend is kissing him. Kuroo is kissing him. The insistent kiss is warm and dry and it's what Kenma's wanted for years but he doesn't know how to react. How can he enjoy the feeling when his mind is reeling? He's frozen under Kuroo's thumbs stroking his ribs over his shirt. Stilled beneath the press of Kuroo's lips. 

Head full of whirling, contradicting thoughts, Kenma wonders whether he should allow this to happen. Kuroo's initiating it and Kenma _does_ want this but he's never been kissed before. Where is he supposed to put his hands? Does Kuroo even want him to put his hands on him? Is this a kiss given out of pity? Can he be selfish this one time? Can he take whatever the hell this is that Kuroo is offering him? 

Curiously, cautiously his lips part as he gives back and sighs, giving in to the push and pull between them, surrendering himself so that Kuroo melts them into the wall. 

It feels good for a second. Then Kuroo breathes into his mouth, sliding his tongue over the seam of Kenma's lips and he's brought crashing down to reality when his mouth floods with the bitter taste of alcohol. 

Kuroo is drunk. How could he have forgotten? That's why he's kissing Kenma - because he's drunk. He's reminded of his heart that broke years ago as he shakes and the shards ring in his chest. When they were kids, Kenma never joined in with the other boys playing rough so this is the hardest he's ever pushed Kuroo. Hard enough that he stumbles back, drunk-sluggish feet heavy on the floor. He stares at Kenma and blinks. Blinks and the weird, unfamiliar blankness covers him again. 

"Couldn't stop thinking about that," Kuroo says. A sharp grin is the only thing that suggests Kuroo is actually conscious right now. Kenma's face screws up as anger and grief consume him. When Kuroo speaks again he's slurring at Kenma's back as Kenma sticks his feet in his shoes and leaves. "There you go. Your first kiss." 

Kenma doesn't cry about it. He's not a crier. But his eyelashes are wet and his nose instantly starts running. He doesn't cry but it's a close thing. Somehow his legs work underneath him and he gets back to his dorm. Yaku – the friend he shares a room with - is already tucked up in bed asleep and Kenma gets the irrational urge to curse at him. He lies on top of the covers of his bed and doesn't fight the panic that, like a fist at the base of his chest, thrusts up to his throat, unfurls and takes hold. His face twists in agony. The familiar ache pulses inside him. The ceiling caves and the night sky crushes him. 

It's been thirteen days since he's seen Kuroo. He's done a good job at avoiding him. Thirteen days since Kenma turned off all his notifications because that first morning after the kiss every notification that came in was fear-inducing, like a bullet to the chest every time, knocking pain into his ribs and the breath from his lungs. With anxiety clawing up inside him whenever he looked at his phone, Kenma had no choice but to hole himself up in his dorm room and bury his nose in work and video games. 

Either Kuroo had got the message that Kenma was avoiding him or Kuroo was avoiding Kenma too because he hadn't shown up. This is probably the longest they've gone without seeing each other. Even before, when Kuroo had started college and Kenma was lagging behind at high school, they'd managed to see each other at least once a week. Because they were best friends and if Kenma had the choice, he'd spend every day with Kuroo. 

Kenma has never done so much work in his life. He sits at his desk, hunched over the most recent paper he's been issued in class, with his headphones pumping music into his ears. Behind him, Yaku is lay on his bed with sheets of scribbled notes spread around him. This has become their new normal. Kenma kindly rejecting any of Yaku's offers to go out anywhere. Opting instead to spend his time at his desk, studying, or tucked up in bed playing on his _Switch_. It had taken a few days for Yaku to sense that there was something wrong. Since then, he'd stopped asking and had spent his study sessions in their shared room, keeping Kenma company. 

When Kenma had asked why Yaku was doing this for him, Yaku had patted him on the head and smiled softly. "I don't need you to tell me what's wrong. All I know is that Kuroo's been acting strange and when I spoke to him, he said he'd messed up, _badly_. He asked me to keep an eye on you but I'm not doing it for him. You're my friend. Plus, I have never been so on top of my work, so thanks for that." 

It's easy like this: not thinking about anything but work and spending time with Yaku isn't so bad. Beneath the music, he makes out Yaku saying: "Someone's at the door." He sighs. "I'll get it." 

There's a point he's trying to make in the paragraph he's writing that isn't coming through properly on paper. The general idea makes sense in his head but as soon as he puts pen to paper the words jumble into something nonsensical. Maybe it's about time he took a break. His thoughts are blurring together and what he really needs right now is to not think. 

No such luck for him. 

"He's busy at the moment." He can hear Yaku beneath the peaceful trickle of music in Kenma's ears. "I know, Kuroo, but if he's not ready to speak with you yet then you should wait." 

Kenma's shoulders draw up as the muscles in his body tense automatically. He's surprised it's taken Kuroo this long to seek him out. Kenma doesn't want to feel guilty for avoiding him but he can't rid himself of the bitter taste. More than that, Kenma wants to hit Kuroo in the nose. 

"It's fine, Yaku," Kenma says softly, removing his headphones. Is this him giving up? Giving in? Maybe it's time. He's been forced into a corner and he doesn't want to confess like this but maybe this is the universe telling him it's time. The tension unravels from him as he slumps in defeat. 

Kenma watches Yaku sidestep around Kuroo - Kuroo who is stood in their doorway like he's been magicked there by Kenma's own involuntary wanting. He looks... tired. Evidence of a lack of sleep is printed beneath his eyes. There's a paleness in his face, accentuated by the black hoodie and sweatpants he's wearing. He looks like sick-Kuroo. He looks like homesick-Kuroo. Instinctually, Kenma worries but he meets Kuroo's eye and the worry subsides. There is something resolute and full of intent in those familiar eyes. 

Never in all the years of their friendship has Kenma felt something akin to fear around his best friend but he feels it now; an ache in the ribs, the fear of what is about to be said and where it will leave them. 

"I've been wanting to say this for the last two weeks. There's no excuse so I'm just going to come out and say it, okay? I'm sorry," Kuroo says. Kenma stands from where he's seated at the desk, eyes stuck on the serious, guilty frown Kuroo's not fighting from his face. "I am _so sorry_." 

The two options rise in front of him like doors. Whichever one he chooses and opens will lead him to the next chapter of his life, and either way, things are going to change forever. The first: to act unbothered, as if what happened thirteen days ago didn't flip his world onto his head. He can say everything's fine; he's just been overloaded with work. He'll have to live with the knowledge of what it feels like to be kissed by Kuroo but this is better than the second option. The second: tell Kuroo the truth. That kiss _did_ flip his world onto its head and he can't carry on lying anymore. _I'm in love with you, I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember_. Kenma swallows the itch in his throat. 

"It's fine." He tries for a weak shrug. "I've had lots of work to catch up on. Been busy, you know?" 

"No. It's not fine." The crease deepens between his brow. His eyes dart all over Kenma's face, in search of answers that aren't there. "I feel so bad for kissing you. Well - no, that's not it. I'm sorry for the way I went about it. I shouldn't have kissed you like that. Being drunk is no excuse and I take full responsibility for that. I wish that kiss had happened differently." 

Kenma thinks back to that day they were on his bed and he'd asked Kuroo to kiss him. Regret is sharp behind his eyes. "I should never have asked that of you. I'm sorry for that. Please, don't feel guilty. We both messed up." 

"That's not - You deserved _better_ than that." Kuroo shakes his head. His eyes flash, frustrated, and he finally looks away from Kenma and Kenma takes a breath. He follows Kuroo's eyes - the way they drift, stripped of the purpose with which he walked in the room with, the colour faded, suddenly doubtful. Kenma's used to Kuroo's confidence. He recognises now that he's trying to be careful but he isn't sure how. "Since you asked me - three weeks ago you asked me to kiss you but you changed your mind, and that was _fine_ . Because I didn't want to take that from you if you weren't sure and all I wanted was for you to be _happy_ and see that you're _so much_ \- For three weeks that's all I've been able to think about and that's really screwed with my head. I don't -" He breathes raggedly like there's a war going on inside him. "- I don't understand what's going on." 

There are too many jumbled words, too many discontinued thoughts, for Kenma to understand. He knows Kuroo's trying to say something important but Kenma can't work it out and it hurts to see the distress on Kuroo's face. Hurts for him to want to help but come up empty-handed. 

"It's okay," he murmurs uselessly. 

"You don't even know what I'm trying to say." Kuroo's eyes slide closed, pained. 

"Whatever it is, it's okay," Kenma says simply because this is the only truth he can rely on: "It's us. We can work it out." 

That seems to do the trick. Kuroo lets out a long, winded breath. It's weird looking at a person he thought he knew inside-out and seeing the cracks in the image he had of them. He sees now that it must have taken a lot of courage for Kuroo to come here and break apart in front of him. Maybe he's not the only one giving up, giving in. Kenma crosses over to his bed and pats the space next to him. Kuroo drops down beside him, keeping some distance between them. 

"What don't you understand?" Kenma asks. He tries not to focus on the space between their thighs. 

"This is embarrassing," Kuroo groans. "I think that maybe - oh my god - maybe I've had a gay awakening?" 

Kenma hates having to ask people to repeat themselves. It feels like an inconvenience to conversations that he wants to get through as quickly as possible. But there's nothing he can say, except: "What?" 

"Look, I don't want to make things weird between us because you're my best friend but I am so fucking lost right now. I've got all these thoughts and feelings that I've never had to face before and you're the only person I trust them with because well, you're the one I'm having these thoughts about. What I'm trying to say - really fucking badly, I know - is that I have feelings for you." 

The words Kenma's been wanting to hear for years meet his ears like a punch to the gut: unprovoked and winding. Did he hear that right? His lips part around another useless question, when Kuroo suddenly carries on. 

"I'm sorry. Again. I'm not even sure if you actually like me that way or if you just wanted your first kiss to be with someone you trusted. In which case, I am _really_ sorry," Kuroo emphasises. He's staring down at his hands, clenched in his lap. Guilt runs laps around his face and Kenma wants to reach over and brush it off. 

"That's not the case -" Kenma cuts his confession short. What if Kuroo's pinning his confusion on him as the only other queer person he knows? He doesn't want to be an experiment. He doesn't want to be the outlet for someone's curiosities. 

"It's so confusing, you know? I've always thought I was straight. Well, I've never really thought about it before. You've always been different, though. Compared to all the other girls - the ones I've dated - you were always more beautiful in my eyes. The sort of beautiful that no one really deserves because it's untouchable. I didn't think those thoughts meant anything but now all I can think about is what it would be like to hold your hand and bring you dinner and kiss you. _Man_ , I want to kiss you again." His eyes flicker over to Kenma nervously. He turns to face Kenma better, angling his body towards him. "Maybe we could try that kiss again. If you want to... That was why you asked, wasn't it? Because you wanted it to be me?" 

Kenma nods before he can register it. The ache pulses inside him in time with his heartbeat. 

"Then, can I? Sober, this time. Can I kiss you properly?" 

Words won't come out of his mouth so he sets his hand on Kuroo's knee and braces himself on it, swaying across the distance between them. The hand Kuroo cradles his face with is warm and relaxed - not the distressed fist it was moments ago. Kenma leans into the touch with a reverent sigh. Giving up, giving in. Kuroo meets him halfway and then they're kissing. This is the door he's chosen, then. This is the new chapter, no matter what may be written there: he's got the first scene plotted to his liking. As he relaxes into the kiss his heart steadies, comforted. Kuroo kisses with care and diligence. He holds Kenma like he's unsure but he can't stop. 

Giving up. Giving in. They both feel a lot like gaining something new. 

When they part, Kuroo's chuckling around a smile. "I'm so confused right now." 

"Why?" 

"Because it feels _right_. This is the only thing that really makes sense, right? Us, I mean." 

Kenma's smile is small and aching. "Yes. It's made sense to me for years. I've been waiting for you to catch up." 

Kuroo splutters and takes Kenma's face in both hands to kiss him again. They smile into the kiss until Kenma has to lean back because he's laughing. Kuroo peppers kisses on Kenma's blushing skin. He's murmuring apologies against his cheek, his temple, his jaw. 

_I'm sorry you had to wait so long. I'm sorry you've had to love me for so long and suffer for it._

"I decided a long time ago -" Kenma admits quietly. He grips Kuroo's thigh for stability, his other hand lost in a tangled bed of hair. "- that I'd rather have you in my life as a friend than not at all. I've been in love with you for years, Kuro, so take your time. Think about what feels right to you - don't think about my feelings - this is about who you are and I want you to be happy, no matter what you find. No matter what you choose, I will always be your friend because I love you." 

Kuroo's knuckles stroke over the high blush on his cheeks. The gold of his eyes is molten. "I know what I want. I've known since I kissed you, it just threw me off. Honestly, I think, maybe, a part of me has known for a long time. Loving you - it's so natural to me that I've never acknowledged it. Or I've been afraid to. I'm sorry you had to wait so long for me." 

"I'd wait again if it meant having this for even a moment," Kenma says, voice a whisper. It's the most vulnerable he's ever been in front of another person. Those words - the weight of their truth - pushes him forward to steal another kiss. 

Before their lips meet and his eyes slide closed, he sees the shine of Kuroo's eyes. He sees the best friend he has always loved and sees that he is loved back. The ache dulls until it is gone and he finds a new space inside him with the capacity for more love. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you - feel free to leave your thoughts :)


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